MINIMAL

This photograph has nothing to do with the following text, but is the only one I took today - the town Christmas tree, looking almost bereft of adornment. Whether this was entirely due to the high winds or the local yob culture is questionable, but maybe the trend of just white lights is a bit of fashion thing, and perhaps a lot cheaper than something more colouful.

Lunch time was a brisk, breezy and showery whizz round the town with a rather long shopping list. Which was not supposed to include a visit to the Oxfam bookshop, though I came out with 4 books. A thriller, a biography for G, one which cannot be named, and a children's book I spotted in the window, which is what made me step backwards and open the door in the first place. "Buster" a story of a wee dog. G's grandchildren have recently got a puppy, named by them Buster, after the loss of their dear dog Earnie at a great age some months ago. Once I saw the book, and the picture of the scamp on the front of the book, I could not leave it there.

I read the story while I ate my lunch and it brought a tear to my eye. And though a bit young for the grandchildren (though obviously not me the big softy), I know they will appreciate the story.

Earnie was a so much loved dog, and I know that Buster will enjoy the same happy life. Buster, you're avery lucky boy.